


Neither Created nor Destroyed

by nyagosstar



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Magic, Car Accidents, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Sugar Daddy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-20 20:40:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4801520
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nyagosstar/pseuds/nyagosstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Most people, when they get into an accident first thing in the morning, do a lot of shouting. Dorian finds probably the only guy in Skyhold to be nice enough to offer him a ride.</p><p>Also known as: You hit my truck, but you're kind of cute and you look like you're having a bad day. Let me buy you breakfast.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Neither Created nor Destroyed

Too late, Dorian saw the truck when he pulled out into traffic. It hit the front end of his car, spinning him, shaking him, and then slamming him back into the curb. “No. No, no, no, no.” He hit his hand against the steering wheel in time with his words and then slumped forward. He kept his eyes closed hoping that when he opened them, it wouldn’t have happened. 

Someone knocked on his window and Dorian looked up and saw a giant Qunari standing at the side of his car. Now that he had time to notice the detail, he saw the truck had a larger than average cab to accommodate the horns. Of course he’d have to hit someone who could snap him in half. 

“Are you okay?” the guy asked. He had a phone out. “Should I call for an ambulance?”

Dorian forced the door open, he had to hit it with his shoulder a couple times to make it work, and stepped out of the car. “I’m so sorry,” he ran his hand through his hair. “I didn’t see.” He looked up into the most handsome face he’d ever seen. Of course. “Are _you_ all right?”

“I’m fine, but you don’t look so good. Come sit down until the police get here. I think I’ve got some water in my truck.” He put a hand at Dorian’s elbow and tried to lead him to the curb, but Dorian shook him off.

“I can’t wait for the police. I swear I’ll pay for everything.” Somehow, he’d figure it out somehow. “But I have to go.”

“How you going to get there, big guy?” The Qunari pointed to Dorian’s car. He edged around to take a look at the damage. Where the truck had barely a scratch, Dorian’s car was cheap and made of plastic. The front end was shattered, big chunks of plastic on the road, his tire was popped and the metal twisted. The guy took his arm again and when he tried to lead him to the curb, Dorian let him. “You in some kind of trouble?”

Spring was already in full swing, but Dorian was wracked with chills. He stuffed his hands under his arms. “I have a final in,” he checked his watch and found the glass cracked, but the hands still ticking. “Fifteen minutes. I’m supposed to graduate in ten days.” If he ran, he might be able to make it to campus in time.

“You got a phone?”

After coming up empty in his pockets, he went back to his car and found the shattered remains of his phone on the floor of the passenger side. “I used to.”

“Okay, I’ll take some pictures and email them to you. Between that and the police report they’ll have to give you a make-up test, right?” He held the phone out to Dorian. “Do you want to call them, now?”

He took the phone and called the Dean’s office. When he handed the phone back, the guy put a bottled of water in his hand and held up a wrapped energy bar. “Why are you being so nice?” Dorian was furious with himself. If he had been the one hit instead of the one who caused the accident, there would have been a lot more shouting.

The guy shrugged. “It was an accident. And you look like you’re having a bad day.”

Over the next hour, he found out the guy’s name was The Iron Bull, of all things, that it took two police cruisers to deal with one accident, his insurance company had shitty hold music and Ferelden cops were equally suspicious of Qunari and college students from Tevinter. When all was done, he’d completely missed the final and any hope of catching his professor before she left campus for the day.

As he watched his car get loaded onto a tow truck, Dorian wanted to cry. He wouldn’t. He was in public and that just wasn’t done, but he wanted to. 

The Iron Bull crossed to his side. “You want a ride?”

Dorian shook his head. “I’ve taken up enough of your morning. I’m sorry, again.”

“Nah, it was your car that took the damage, and your morning that got fucked. Come on, let’s get some breakfast and I can drop you off somewhere.”

He was hungry. The power bar was the first thing he’d eaten in almost twenty-four hours. The same with the water. “Yeah, yeah, okay.”

“Hop in. There’s a diner not far from here that does great eggs.” He drove them to a diner and the hostess steered them to a booth near a wide window facing the parking lot. He ordered a carafe of coffee for the table and then fell silent, letting Dorian peruse the menu.

It had been so long since he’d eaten anything but rice and beans and dry off-brand cereal, he didn’t know where to start. He had a little money in his wallet. It was supposed to be for gas, but without the car, he figured it was fair game. He could swing the oatmeal and some juice and still have some left over for a bus back to his apartment. He set the menu aside and pressed his shaking hands to the table, he hadn’t been able to get them under control all morning.

“Maybe wait until you get some food in you before you start working on the caffeine, huh?” The Iron Bull nodded to Dorian’s hands. 

“It’s been a long semester.” A long year. Trying to shove his remaining credit hours in as soon as possible. When he left Tevinter he knew it was going to be hard, he just didn’t know how hard. Once he crossed the border, he found that his degrees from Tevinter were basically useless. He’d spent the last three years trying to cram another degree under his belt. He was a couple years older and frankly more talented than his classmates. It stood to reason. He’d already mastered all of the work he had to sit through for the sake of a piece of paper. An expensive piece of paper.

Their waitress came and The Iron Bull ordered enough food for three people. Body that big, it made sense it took a lot to keep him going. Dorian put his order in, but when he tried to hand back the menu, The Iron Bull stopped and asked their waitress to come back in a few minutes.

“I thought I was clear. I’m buying breakfast. Get whatever you want, you look like you could use a good meal or twenty.”

Dorian shifted uncomfortably. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I know. I want to.” He nudged the menu into Dorian’s hands. “Try again.”

On his second attempt, Dorian got an omelet and pancakes and bacon, hash browns and fruit. He thought it was too much, but The Iron Bull just grinned at him. “That’s more like it.”

They traded some small talk while they waited for their food. Dorian gave the short, clean version of his transfer to Skyhold University. Bull, as he allowed Dorian to call him, turned out to own his own business. Dorian figured Bull was older than him, but he still seemed youngish to have a business. 

“I’m a private investigator.”

The flash of fear that went through Dorian was masked by the arrival of their food. He covered his worry with his first few bites and then the novelty of hot, flavorful, various food actually won over his fear. He killed half his plate before he took a breath and looked up.

Bull ate at a more sedate pace, a pleased little smirk on his face between bites. “Good?”

“Best I’ve had in ages.” He eyed the plates. Though he could easily eat everything before him, the pancakes and bacon would probably keep okay. If they could pack it up for him he’d have dinner set for the night. “So, you follow people around and take pictures of them cheating on their spouses?”

Bull laughed. “When we first started, yeah. It paid the bills. People are willing to pay out a lot of money to be right. Now I mostly do missing persons, long lost kids, that kind of thing.”

“That must be interesting work.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say. Bull was all easy smiles and board gestures. There wasn’t anything about him, despite his size, his horns and the vicious scar only half hidden by his patch, that made Dorian feel like he was in danger. Why couldn’t he have been literally anything else?

“Not as much as you’d think. People like to think their stories are so individual and unique, but I see pretty much the same stuff over and over again.” Bull has made steady work of his breakfast, digging through plates of food with ease. When he saw Dorian push back his pancakes, he slid his bacon onto Dorian’s plate without a word.

Their waitress came and boxed up Dorian’s food. As she handed it to him, he realized he was going to have to carry it with him the rest of the day. He had no idea when he’d be able to get back home and throw it in his fridge. Maybe he could sweet talk Helisma in the library into letting him borrow space in their fridge.

“I hope you’re not a serious poker player, big guy.”

Dorian jerked back. He’d forgotten about Bull for a moment. “What?”

“You look like someone just kicked your cat and then you.”

A full stomach helped ease some of his worry, but only a small part of it. “Yeah, you know. I totaled my fucking car this morning, so.”

Bull looked at the check and then tucked a couple of bills into the folder. “Come on. I’ll drive you home, you can stash that at your place and then I’ll drive you to your school.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

Bull shrugged. “You didn’t ask. Come on.” 

It was an impossibly kind gesture, but Dorian couldn’t shake the feeling that it was wrong somehow. People didn’t just do that kind of thing without the hope of something. His world, at the very least, did not work that way. “Why are you doing all of this?” he asked once they were back on the road.

Though he kept his attention on the road, Dorian felt Bull’s regard as he spoke. “I’ve had my fair share of bad days. Sometimes, there was someone there to help keep it all together. And I know what it feels like when there isn’t anyone.” He laughed. “Besides, I’ve always been a sucker for a pretty face.” He winced and shifted in his seat. “Shit, shit. Sorry, that came out wrong. This isn’t some shady deal where I buy you breakfast and then ask you to blow me in my truck.”

The tightness in Dorian’s chest didn’t ease as that was suddenly all he could think about. “Yeah, you seem like the kind of guy who’d ask to come in.”

The laugh was back in Bull’s voice, but he was still tentative. “You seem a little young for that kind of thing, anyway.”

Dorian drew in a long breath, the smell of Bull’s cologne permeated the cab. “You’re not really helping you case out here. I’m older than I look, and the school thing throws people off. I’m twenty-five. Not even close to being icky.”

“Depends on your definition of icky. Still ten years younger than me.”

It wasn’t the biggest age difference Dorian had dealt with. And for a body like Bull’s, for his sweet smile, it was well worth putting up with. “Not that big a difference.”

Bull pulled the truck into the parking lot of Dorian’s building and put the truck in park, but left it running. “Go do your thing. I’ll wait for you here.”

He wanted to continue their slow move toward flirting, but recognized the timing and situation weren’t ideal. He ran up the steps to his apartment, stashed his food and ran back downstairs. Bull was still waiting, just as he’d said. It was a surprise and a comfort. Weird.

“Sure you don’t mind?”

“I’m not going to change my mind just cause you keep asking.” Bull pulled back out into traffic. “So, what are you studying?”

“Thermodynamics.”

“No, shit.”

“Yeah. There’s a private aerospace company that will hire me on as a researcher once I graduate. Again.” In Tevinter he’d fast tracked through his doctorate and had a well-paid, well-regarded job before everything went to shit. The research position was well below his ability, but it was steady and he could work toward building up a life again.

“It’s tough, sometimes, moving between countries.”

Dorian thought about his first winter in Skyhold. He’d been so cold he thought he was going to die. The chill followed him everywhere, even in the heated classrooms and in the scalding shower, he couldn’t get warm. When spring finally arrived and the temperatures soared into the fifties Dorian cried. “Yeah.” 

The edge of campus neared and Dorian pointed to a parking lot. So close to the end of the semester it was mostly empty. “You can drop me here.” He had to go see the Dean and his advisor. Who knew who else they’d make him talk to.

Bull pulled into a spot and shut off his truck. “I can honestly say I’ve never been in a better accident.” He turned to face Dorian dead on, a smile spread so sweet across his face.

“Me, too.” Dorian unbuckled his seat belt and then didn’t let himself think too much about his next move. He planted a hand on the seat between them, leaned in to close the space and brushed his lips against Bull’s stubbled jaw. “Thank you.” Before Bull could say anything, Dorian slipped out of the truck and started off across campus. He couldn’t shake the lingering feel of Bull’s skin against his lips or his kindness for the rest of the day.

It was an exhaustive day tracking down all of the right people, but with the images from the accident and the police report, he was able to get a make-up exam without too much trouble. He spent two hours solving equations and writing out proofs until his hand ached. Why was Ferelden so damnably attached to writing? All of his coursework in Tevinter had been electronic, so much more efficient. 

When he was done, he called his boss and asked to pick up as many shifts as he could for the next two weeks. Adaar Aerospace was willing to work with him, but not until he had a diploma in hand. He was only lucky that there was a reliable bus route between his apartment and both locations. It would be a while before he’d be able to get another car of his own.

Sera had a shift open for him that afternoon, a call out, so he spent the rest of his day steaming milk and flirting with regulars and trying to put Bull out of his thoughts. That way was dangerous. Yes, he was ridiculously attractive and nice, but he was also a private detective and Dorian couldn’t afford to put himself in that kind of position. He stuck around through close and helped Sera mop the back room and she gave him a ride home.

“I can swing by in the morning for you, yeah?”

Dorian swallowed around the tightness in his throat. “I’ll give you gas money.”

“Shut it, and get out of my car. Be ready at five.”

At the door to his apartment, there was a package waiting for him. Dorian picked it up, double checked the name and brought it inside. The apartment was dark and warm and he went through turning on lights and opening windows to let in the summer breeze. He’d have to be up in a couple of hours for the morning shift, but he was still too wound from work to settle to sleep. His clothes and arms didn’t just smell of coffee, he was certain some of the caffeine actually transferred through his skin.

Inside the box he found a new phone and a note: Thought you could use the help. It’s all set on your network. I know a guy. The signature was hard to read, but as Dorian didn’t know anyone else who would go to the trouble, he figured it was from Bull. He powered on the phone and laughed when the default image came up as Bull’s grinning face. His number was also listed in Dorian’s contacts.

It should have been unsettling. Dorian should have started packing his things to move on to a new apartment, but he didn’t get that sense of danger from Bull that he’d picked up from others. The ones who tried to get too close too fast. Dorian couldn’t prove they’d been sent by his father, but he couldn’t disprove it, either.

_Thanks._

Bull’s response was immediate. _Is it too early to send dick pics?_

Dorian laughed loud enough that it echoed off the walls of his kitchen. _Probably. Maybe a nipple?_

A moment later his phone chimed and there was a picture of Bull’s broad chest, his dark nipple peaked. _Your turn._

He considered the text then unbuttoned his jeans and hiked up his shirt to get a good shot of the bottom of his abs and the well of his right hipbone.

_Now that’s just mean._

_I think you started it._ Dorian shut off the light in the kitchen and then went through to turn on the bathroom light and shucked his clothes in a pile by the bedroom door. He wasn’t feeling sleepy, but he definitely wanted to be in bed. Once settled, he took a shot of his face laid out against the pillows and blankets. _Sleep well._

#

A few days later, there was another box waiting outside his door when he went to leave for his morning shift. He picked it up, shook it on reflex and took it with him as he darted out to the parking lot where Sera was waiting. 

“What’s in the box?” She snickered at her own imitation, then poked at it when Dorian shrugged.

“I don’t know.”

Sera gunned through a mostly red light and cackled as Dorian closed his eyes and gripped the door handle. It was sweet of her to offer rides, but also terrifying. How it was Dorian who’d been in the accident and not her was a mystery. “Well, open it. I won’t make you pay for gas. Don’t like mysteries, right?”

Dorian considered what could be inside, anything, really, and decided to take the chance. He slid his fingers under the smooth, thick paper and lifted the lid to a gorgeous watch. It shone iridescent blue in the bright morning light. The extra dials and heavy weight meant it cost more than he made in a month, easy.

A sharp whistle broke Dorian’s concentration as Sera leaned over to examine the watch. “Someone got themselves a sugar daddy.”

There was a note inside, written in Bull’s neat script: _Congratulations on your impending graduation._ Dorian stroked the metal and then put the lid back on and shoved it into his bag.

“You not going to wear it?”

“And scratch it against the walk-in and dump coffee on it the first day? I don’t think so.” He dug out his phone to send a text to Bull, but he was at a loss. Thanks were in order, but was Sera right? Did Bull think he was buying something more than a little harmless flirting? The amount of money Bull’d spent on him so far seemed to indicate that was the case. Why else would he do it for someone who was practically a stranger? “What should I say?”

Sera made a disgusted noise. “You say thank you when people give you nice things.”

Dorian mimed typing. “Thank you for the watch. You can come over and fuck me later, if you want.”

The silence in the car stretched. There was a frown on Sera’s face and when she pulled in to the parking lot of the coffee shop, she turned in her seat, serious. “You don’t owe people sex because they get you things. You know that, right? Cause that’s not a thing you have to do. Keep the watch, don’t keep it, but you don’t owe anything for it.”

He nodded because that was what Sera expected. And he did know that, but he knew it the way parents were supposed to love their children. In the abstract with no practical experience.

The shift passed quickly. They were too busy for him to dwell much, though he did go back to the break room every chance he got to lift the lid on the box and look at the watch. He still didn’t know what to say. Nothing felt right.

He worked through all of his shift and half of the next when Barris called to say he was running late. His dinner was a sandwich from the café that an online order never came to pick up that he ate at the bus stop. It was dark when he got home, but not quiet. The apartment down the hall that was only supposed to have two guys in it that actually had six had music beating through the walls of the building and people spilling out into the hall from their open doorway. He accepted the bribe of a lukewarm can of beer and closed the noise behind his door.

He turned lights on and off as he went through the apartment. His work things he dumped on the table, but he was careful with the box, setting it down to admire the work again before it slid it on to his wrist. It was a little cold and heavy, a persistent steady weight that felt surprisingly good. He grabbed his phone, turned on the light in the bathroom to cast a warm glow in the bedroom and crawled into bed.

There was a text waiting for him. _Did I freak you out?_

Instead of spending the next twenty minutes typing out his thoughts, Dorian called. Bull picked up on the second ring.

“The watch is lovely, thank you.”

Bull laughed, hardly more than a few puffs of breath. “Yeah, well. Graduating’s a big deal. Everyone should have something nice for their hard work.” Bull’s voice was deeper than he remembered and it sent a shiver through Dorian.

His hand, the one wearing the watch, strayed below the covers. “It was a nice surprise.”

Bull hummed. “That’s the idea.” 

His voice sounded scratchy and Dorian wondered if he’d been smoking or drinking. The image of him tucked into the back booth of a bar, beer in front of him, swirl of smoke moving between his horns. He was instantly hard. “Tell me about your day.” Anything, anything to keep Bull speaking.

Amusement was layered over irritation as Bull described his day: meeting with clients, taking calls and doing some footwork. “I usually let my second, Krem, do the leg work. He’s a little less conspicuous.”

Dorian made an agreeable sound as he ran his hand down to cup his balls, rolling them before sliding up his shaft. He ran his thumb over the head, spreading the little bit of fluid that accumulated. He bit his lip to keep in a moan as he started up a smooth, regular rhythm. He closed his eyes and imagined that Bull was with him, that it was his huge hand on him.

“Am I boring you?”

Dorian jerked as he realized Bull had asked him a question. “Sorry, what was that?”

“If you’re tired, I can let you go.”

Dorian was close, but not ready to come. “No, no. I’m listening.”

Bull laughed. “I’m not going to quiz you on what I was saying, but I don’t think I have your full attention.”

They’d traded almost dirty pictures, right? This wasn’t that far out in left field. “Okay, I was more listening to the sound of your voice.” He let his own drop, get a little breathy and he let out the smallest whimper as he stroked himself nice and slow. Quiet enough that if Bull wanted, he could ignore it.

“Oh, it’s like that, is it? You should have let me know, big guy. You’re all ahead of me now.” Bull’s voice went distant and there was a rustle of cloth in the background. The slow, warm build he’d been working on was gone at the thought of Bull matching him, and he was aching suddenly, desperate to come. “Wait for me.”

Dorian groaned and reached down to tug at his balls to keep from coming. “Come on.”

“You seemed pretty patient before, when you were letting me do all the work.” Bull moaned a little then and Dorian could imagine him, spread out, leaning back on his couch, his pants undone just enough to take himself in hand. “Who knew office work was so exciting?”

“Yeah, I just fucking love copiers.” He thought he had himself under control and gave in to the urge to stroke again.

Bull’s breathy laugh was warm in his ear and it was almost as good as having him in the room. Better in some way, to build the fantasy that he wanted. “How close are you?”

“Ugh, so fucking close. Come on, come on.”

“Pushy, I like it.” Dorian expected Bull to ask him questions, make him describe what he was doing. He’d had phone sex with a couple of guys before and it was always more awkward than hot. He didn’t want to do something, think about how it worked, and then describe it. But Bull didn’t make him change his focus. He seemed happy enough listening to Dorian breathe down the phone. “Go ahead, come when you’re ready.”

Dorian bucked into his hand and almost lost hold of the phone as he came, arching up off the bed. He had enough presence of mind to make some noise, to let out the sounds he usually tried so hard to keep in and was rewarded with Bull’s low grunt of pleasure and then long, pleased hum.

“Well, that was a different kind of phone call than I was expecting.”

Dorian worked on getting his breath back and his heart slowed. “Yeah?”

“Thought you were going to tell me to back off.”

He shook his head, even though Bull couldn’t see him. “No. It’s nice.” He was feeling pleasantly drowsy and let his eyes slide closed.

“Get some rest, Dorian. Call me any time.”

#

The problem, Dorian thought, as he picked up the box at his door, wasn’t so much that Bull was leaving him gifts like a stalker. It was how easy it was for Dorian to fall into the pattern of accepting gifts as his due. It was easy to let Bull buy him breakfast, and a phone, and a watch and now whatever was in the new box. But it wouldn’t last. It couldn’t last and it was so much harder when the kind regard went away. When his mouth was no longer pretty enough or his shoulders too broad.

He tossed the unopened box on his kitchen table. _You have to stop._ He typed it out, re-read it and then erased it. Bull hadn’t asked anything of him.

Not yet.

Besides, it was nice having a little attention. He was older than his classmates. Easier to keep to himself, though there’d been a time he was certain he would wilt without the kind eye of handsome male regard.

He opened the package and found a tie wrapped in thin tissue paper. Silk, expensive, it was almost exactly the color of Dorian’s eyes. _Are you trying to tell me something about my wardrobe?_ The silk slid between his fingers. Gorgeous.

He was expecting a crude joke, something about pictures of Dorian in the tie and nothing else. _Come to dinner with me?_

Dorian hesitated and ran the silk through his fingers. _Somewhere nice enough for a tie?_

_And a jacket, if you have one. I can pick you up at seven?_

_Sure of yourself, aren’t you?_ He’d have just enough time to shower and change. His back ached from standing all day and there was a headache just starting to fester behind his eyes. What he really wanted was to crawl into bed and sleep for the next ten hours. It was almost strong enough a desire to tell Bull no. But then he thought of the wide, handsome face and knew he’d drag himself out half dead. _Yeah, okay._

Bull was outside his apartment at five to seven. He should have looked ridiculous in his shiny, sharp cut suit behind the wheel of truck, but the contrast just made Dorian smile. And while Bull didn’t get out and open the door for Dorian, he did lean across the cab and pop the door for him. 

“You look good,” Bull said in lieu of a greeting.

Dorian ran his hand down the front of his own suit, over the tie. “It’s a lovely tie.” Usually so good with words, he small talked his way through more than one uncomfortable party in Tevinter, Dorian couldn’t think of a thing to say as Bull pulled out into traffic. He was having trouble reconciling how different it was to have Bull in the same space with him, not just words on a screen or a voice pressed against his ear. 

They were headed toward something, but Dorian was at a loss to pinpoint exactly what it was. It was a little strange sitting in Bull’s truck trying to make small talk when he’d had phone sex with the man three times already. The first time had been an accident, but the following encounters were more intentional. 

Bull let him work through his thoughts, calm and collected, like he was aware of the silence but not bothered by it. That helped. 

When they arrived, Bull led them inside a quietly expensive restaurant, the kind Dorian had grown up in. There was a table waiting for them in the back and no one blinked at the odd pair they made. “So, it’s been my experience that people take other people to places like this to deliver bad news. It’s the wine I think, that helps make it more palatable.”

Any reply that Bull would have made was interrupted by their waiter who managed to ride the line between polite boredom and attentiveness with grace. They put in their orders and then Bull leaned in, lowered his voice. “I was going to ask what kind of fucked up childhood you had that you associate nice meals with disappointment, but considering one of the reasons I wanted to bring you here is to talk about your family, it seems a little disingenuous.”

Dorian’s stomach dropped and he wished he had the strength to get up from the table. He could call Sera, she’d come get him, no questions asked. At least not right away. He could leave. But Bull didn’t sound threatening. He sounded, sad, almost. “And here I thought you were going to ask to be my sugar daddy. An offer, I promise, I would have been much more interested in three years ago.” He kept his voice calm and level, but he knew he wasn’t fooling Bull.

When he kept his seat, Bull relaxed and leaned back. “You looked kind of familiar. I wouldn’t have gone digging otherwise. It’s not something I make a habit of—better to let people tell me what the need to tell me on their own terms. I found it yesterday, the reason you looked familiar. Your family is circulating your picture to every private detective in Ferleden, as far as I can figure, trying to track you down.”

He should have gone farther. Of course putting a sea between them wasn’t enough, he should have crossed the whole world to get away. But he’d been tired and out of money and he didn’t think Halward would try so hard to find him. “I left on bad terms.”

Bull adjusted his silverware and his water glass, his mouth turned down to a slight frown. “They’re putting it out that you have a mental illness and need to be returned for your own safety.”

Dorian laughed before he could stop himself, louder than was appropriate for their setting. He got himself under control quickly, but he didn’t think he was doing himself any favors. “Well done, father. I mean, given Tevinter law, it’s even true. Ferelden has a number of flaws, but one of the things it does surprisingly well is that no one cares who anyone sleeps with. Back home, well.” He spread his hands. “My father sent me to my first ex-gay camp when I was eight. I had no idea what was going on. I don’t think he did either. Not really. He just didn’t like the way I talked or moved. He looked at the sons of his colleagues and saw I was different. 

“That one wasn’t so bad, actually. It was for younger kids so we spent a lot of time praying. Some of the kids were in speech therapy. They had us out playing sports. We’d have these one on one sessions with our counselors where they’d make us look at pictures of girls and we’d have to say what we liked about them. I am fucking awesome at complimenting women, now. The ones that came later were more,” he drew a breath, “intense.” He tried hard not to think about those and he was not going to discuss them over dinner.

“Four years ago, he had me kidnapped from my apartment and dragged home. Have you ever watched those old documentaries about families that managed to rescue somebody from a cult? They put them through weeks, sometimes months of intense deprogramming?” Bull nodded which was good because Dorian didn’t really want to get into the specifics. “It was like that, except I wasn’t in a cult. They paid some people what I imagine was a lot of money to shout at me and deprive me of food and water and light and sound for hours or days on end so I could see the error of my way.” He sometimes still got a little antsy about food and water, the first year he was in Ferelden he always had a water bottle in his bag and a stash of energy bars just in case. That had mostly faded, but the darkness ate at him still. He had no idea what might be coming for him in the darkness. “I think Halward would have had an easier time accepting me if I’d turned out to be a murder, instead of just gay. How fucked up is that?”

He paused as their meal was delivered and while it smelled delicious and the presentation was pristine, he didn’t have much of an appetite. Still, it was polite to make the attempt. He picked up his silverware and ate the tiniest bite. “I guess he told my co-workers and friends that I’d had an episode and was recovering, I don’t really know. After a few months they got careless and I acted more compliant until I was able to escape. Stole some shit on the way out to pay for my ride out of the country.” Dorian pointed his knife at Bull, fully cognizant of the implied threat. “I will not go back. I don’t care how much they’re paying you.” He’d worked too hard to go back.

“Whoa there, big guy. Nobody said anything about payment. I haven’t talked to your parents or contacted them in any way.” Bull started in on his own meal, clanking away at the fine china the same way he had on the cheap plates at the diner. It was a surprise and a comfort. “Like I said, I didn’t go digging. Your parents put the word out about you not too long ago, which is why you haven’t run into trouble yet, but with the number they tagged, it’s coming. I thought you might want to get ahead of it.”

The thought of packing up his life and starting over, again, somewhere else was as daunting as it was exhausting. “I don’t want to run, again.”

Bull reached across the table and grasped Dorian’s hand. It was huge and warm and steadying. “I didn’t mean run. I meant plan. You’re an adult and there are things you can do to keep them from getting to you. I can help, if you want, or not. I just wanted you to know.”

To not have to deal with it alone, to have someone who knew what to do. The idea was astounding. “You don’t even know me.”

The low light of the restaurant cast Bull’s face in stark lines. He looked imposingly handsome and so very kind. “I know you like nice things and you’ve worked really hard to get where you are. I know what you sound like when you come and that you like it when I tell you how to touch yourself. I know that everybody needs a little help sometimes. You should ask Krem about our first meeting and then tell me that you’re asking too much.”

It felt too easy. That kind of gift wasn’t something Dorian got, but looking at Bull’s steady gaze, he knew he couldn’t turn him down. “How do we start?”

Bull relaxed, the intensity draining from him as he started eating again. “First we finish here and then we go back to my office and we go over your options. I think you’re going to be surprised just how much you can do.”

Hope was a strange thing, more foreign than the thing building between the two of them. It was a warm feeling in the pit of his stomach that radiated through him until the very tips of his fingers were flush with it. “That sounds good.”

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be significantly shorter than it turned out. I thought they were just going to have breakfast and then move on. But sometimes, Bull's like a cat, slinking in the crack of an almost closed door, ready for more. I feel like there could be more to this 'verse, but that this stands well enough on its own that it's okay if I just leave it here.


End file.
